


GRAND THEFT IGGY

by jmacdakid



Series: IGGY MILKOVICH: SOUTH-SIDE ADVENTURES [2]
Category: Shameless US - Fandom
Genre: Grand theft auto, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmacdakid/pseuds/jmacdakid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our Milkovich hero stumbles upon a new ride. Fate has a funny way of slapping your face sometimes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	GRAND THEFT IGGY

**Author's Note:**

> 0 to 100, fuck-face, real quick  
> Real quick, real fuckin quick, sucka!

THURSDAY. 2:21PM. CHICAGO, IL

Iggy is kicked awake by the theatre attendant. He slowly fades back to reality as the P.O'd employee asks, "Hey! Weren't you at the 1st showing of TMNT this morning too?! Where's your ticket stub?" "I ate it. But if you follow me around for a few hours, I might poop a surprise." Iggy replies, flatly. He yawns & stretches as he gets up to leave. "You CANNOT fucking sleep here, man!" screams the attendant, now fully fuming. "Looks like I just did, Baby Einstein." Iggy states as he squares his chest to the now hesitant guy. "I will call my manager." he spouts childishly nervous. "Ok. Do that." plays Iggy. The cowering puke has no idea who's realm he just kicked in the door too. The kid sheepishly reaches for his intercom; Iggy grins. "Mr. O'Malley, uh, we have a problem, in theatre 6 &\--" Iggy throws a fast right cross, catches the worker's work polo and pulls the poor schmuck's bloodied face into his own skull. He then unclips the intercom and drops the now unconscious body to the sticky floor, knocking over his half bottle of Cuervo Silver. Shit. As it rolls down under the proceeding rows, the intercom comes alive, "Davis, hello? What's the problem in theatre 6?" As Iggy leaps over 2 rows to stomp his boot just before his liquor, he patches back in his best "pussy punk" impression, "Uh, sir...it's not theatre 6, uh, it's theatre 4. There's...(he thinks as he swigs some tequila)...there's a tiger in theatre 4!" Oops. "Did you say a tiger?" queries the GM. Iggy grabs his coat from where he was originally sleeping & kicks the attendant for good measure, "Yea, dumbass. There's a fucking jungle cat in theatre 4. I need help now!" Iggy pops out the emergency exit & pockets the intercom off. He downs the Cuervo & wraps the empty glass in his coat, then smashes it on the landing. He scatters the broken shards on the stair case railing, then flings free his coat & lights a square. As he heads down the alleyway, we hear that same door burst open, followed by screams of pain. He smiles, inhales a deep drag & turns the corner East, out of sight. 

3 blocks & 2 squares later, Iggy comes up toward a highly decorated lot. Fashioned with streamers & balloons around a giant board reading: ENTER TO WIN THIS CAMARO!! *Enter? Don't mind if I do.* He reaches into his flask pocket & unzips a secret compartment of his army jacket. Out pops a decent ring of 35 some keys & absolutely knowingly, unlocks the gate that was enclosing a black 2015 Chevy Camaro. Iggy lights another square as he jimmies the door open & hot wires the sports car. Stock; too easy. The car roars to life & then putters out: GAS EMPTY. *Fuck! Can I please have one candy/baby day* He then remembers that Kandi was a stripper from DT that had once claimed she was preggo with a Milkovich. The next day she woke up at a Clinic & was handed a note by some street urchin as she was verbally abused by the PRO-LIFE BRIGADE upon exiting. [U R WELLCUM TRICK]

Siphoning gas looks hard on TV, but it's rather simple and Iggy had been huffing gas since before he couldn't read too good. He actually didn't mind the taste. After barely spitting out the remnants in his mouth, he pulled out his smokes, but then switched to a different pack. Menthols: mint'll hint the gasoline, lickidy split. Without caution he lights the square & sits in a moment, completely unaware of how flammable his mouth is. Once again, Death has passed on a Milkovich. Demons rejoice. Iggy fills the tank & peels from the lot, not noticing the ginger girl crossing the street. She screams and dives as Iggy swerves (SWERVE) to avoid her. He slams the brakes, gear P & jumps out toward...*Another fucking Gallagher? They're everywhere* "Ey, you good?" Iggy barks. Debbie Gallagher adjusts her back pack and looks at her busted model of the Titanic sprawled across the street. "No, I'm not 'good' - you broke my model AND you almost killed me." she snaps and stares at him expectantly. "Would you rather I'da killed you AND almost broke your toy boat, instead?" He sarcastically asks, as he scoops up her model. "I do not accept your apology." she states with conviction. "That right there is why people don't like you flame haired banshees. Shut up, everything can be fixed." he throws away. She explodes, "The 4 red exhaust pillars won't fit back into place! I took it home so it wouldn't get ruined at school!" Iggy grins, "You're funny. Good plan, btw." "Is there even a single normal Milkovich on this planet, more specifically in Chicago?" she snorts. "Says the girl Chuckie Doll..." he teases. She breaks a smile and laughs. Maybe they weren't all so gruff?

"Easy fix." as Iggy pulls out 4 halfies & then cuts his left palm with a switchblade that came outta nowhere. He palms the half squares and smiles at a ghost faced Debbie. After a moment, he unclenches his bloody fist and almost articulately places the deep red tobacco pillars in the empty slots. It's not perfect, but by God, it looks good. Scale matches and Debbie is now beaming & impressed. "That's your blood..." she releases. "Don't lick it." he advises and hands her the boat. He turns around and gets back into his newly acquired car. As he rolls down the window to a still standing there Debbie, "Your sister makes good eggs, huh?" "She adds too much salt." fires Debbie, puzzled. "Not the eggs I was talking about, ginger-snap!" as he peels away down the street. Debbie stands somewhere between amazed & horrified, transfixed as the neighborhood Han Solo degenerate speeds recklessly away.

Wise to pull around back with his new 'Decepticon' as he had already deemed it, he killed the engine and swiftly tossed an old tarp over his score. Popping a square, he enters the side kitchen door and is met by his sister's classic bitch-stare. "Where the fuck have you been all afternoon, V, shit?" she slaps his head. Iggy grabs her hand forcefully & quickly restrains Mandy, "Don't fucking call me that; I will end you if you don't stop acting like our fucking mother. Don't push me, bitch." She exhales deep & gives in. He releases her, "Why are you coming at me with that heat the second I open the fucking door, huh? You had Aunt Flow visit 2 weeks ago, can't still be raggin - so, what?" "Fuck you, Iggy. I'm gonna mens in your Jergen's, you fuck." Iggy smiles. She's so crass. "Phone's been ringing all day for your ass--(phone rings)--and, there it is again!!" as she lifts the receiver and into the phone shouts "HE'S FINALLY FUCKING HOME!! IF YOU CALL AGAIN, I WILL FIND YOU & TIE YOUR DICK IN A KNOT!" She throws the phone at Iggy and storms out, fed up with her brother. 

Iggy takes a beat, lights his square and answers, "Who the fuck is this?" "Mr. Milkovich? Mr. Viggo Milkovich?" says the man's voice. "His name is Iggy. WHO WANTS TO KNOW?" he barks. "Sir, I'm calling you because you were the winner of our contest, but before I could award you the prize, it was stolen." regrettably states the man. "So gimme a different one." blurts Iggy, as he opens the fridge. "We are unable to do that, Mr. Milkovich. It was a brand new 2015 Camaro. I'm very sorry." replies the man. Iggy pauses and it all slams him in the face like a freight train, "Don't worry about it partner, I'm sure they deserved it more than me." Then, "Wait, I never signed up for no contest, wtf?" he questions. "Looks like it was filled out for you. On the back it says 'Love Mandy' with a middle finger drawn." the man responds. "I'm sorry. Have a good night, Mr. Milkovich." Iggy hangs up and heads toward the bedrooms. Mickey Milkovich exits the bathroom and saunters past, reeking of sex. "Sup douche?" laughs Mickey. "Bro. You got cum in your hair." says Iggy. As Mickey hurriedly pats at his mop, Iggy laughs "There's Something About Mickey - coming to GayRay HD1080p this fall!" As he opens Mandy's door, Mickey chimes "I fuck myself with your toothbrush every morning!"

"GET OUT OF HERE YOU SERIAL KILLER!" screams Mandy upon her brother's intrusion. She slams shut her laptop. "Amanda. Shut up." he is direct, but sincerely gentle. She melts for a second, before re upping her defenses, "Don't call me that, chode." Iggy moves to her, never breaking eye contact and embraces her wholeheartedly. Mandy is freaked out by this, but is warmed by her brother's affection. "Thank you for thinking of me. Even when you're still a cunt about it." His soft face is in complete contrast to his vulgarity in this moment. "You're welcome, weirdo?" Mandy pushes him off. "Don't you have dead animals to burn? Scram." He abides in silence, still appreciating his sister's gesture, and closes her door behind him. 

As he enters the living room with a 40oz, Mickey is putting on a shirt & his shoes, eager to leave. Iggy slaps him on the back with a smile as Mickey opens the front door to go, "Be safe tonight, Mick. I love you." Mickey is dumbfounded, shakes his head and walks out. As tough Mickey puffs out his chest and crosses the yard, we see a Post-It on his back shoulder reading: HI. IM A FAG. PLEEZ PUSH MY SHIT IN. Iggy crosses his arms, swigs his malt and watches his younger brother prance down the street, gazing like a proud father who was just told his girlfriend miscarried and now wasn't a father at all again. =)

**Author's Note:**

> FIN.


End file.
